Batman, as a whole brand, has always included a copious amount of queer swagger. I am sure that some gay kids felt a certain way from Christian Bale’s gravelly, gruff booming vocal delivery, and no doubt Robert Pattison’s young Bruce Wayne has captured the attention of some lovesick comic fan as they anticipate Matt Reeves’ follow-up. For years, I assumed that my biggest Gotham City weakness was Chris O’Donnell’s Robin, but as I get older, I will leave the muscle-bound twunks behind in favor of a campy, over-the-top queen in the form of Jim Carrey’s The Riddler in Batman Forever.
Tim Burton’s Batman Returns was an awakening for gay boys my age, because of the ferocity of Michelle Pfeiffer’s Selina Kyle turned Catwoman. After being shoved out of a high-rise window by Christopher Walken’s Max Schreck, she is resurrected by a clan of kitties before sewing together an oh-so-tight jumpsuit, snatching a whip, and hatching a plan to smooch Batman and kill the men who wronged her. One could argue that it’s a version of the ultimate bullied kid revenge story ever committed to film under the guise of a comic book adaptation. Pfeiffer, surrounded by avenging, brooding saviors and corpulent, angry fellow villains, was easy to latch onto with her blood-red lipstick, Cheshire smile, and droll delivery. Meow…boom!
Comic books weren’t my bag as a kid. I didn’t have the internet to inform me of how vast the world was in those small, illustrated panes, and there weren’t over thirty (JFC…) Marvel Cinematic Universe films out yet to pique my childhood interest. Disney Adventures magazine preceded my Entertainment Weekly obsession, but no magazine informed me that Pfeiffer’s Catwoman wasn’t returning for the third Batman movie, set to be released in the summer of 1995. I’m ashamed to admit that I thought unknown-to-me-then Nicole Kidman was going to taking over the role in Joel Schumacher’s first directorial outing for the Caped Crusader.
Schumacher’s Batman Forever was bright and colorful. There was no Burton brooding to be had, and there was no bloody snow or no one got their nose bitten off. Everything felt different. All I knew about Val Kilmer was that he was handsome as hell. Tommy Lee Jones, as Harvey Dent/Two-Face, scared me, but my dad was a fan so he got a pass. Kidman, as Doctor Chase Meridian, planted the seeds of many current actress-obsessed Gen X-ers and Millennials. Jim Carrey, at the height of his mid-90s powers, was inspired casting as The Riddler, because he was so unpredicable–he seemed dangerous to anyone below the age of twenty. The most memorable presence for a gay eleven year-old, though, was the dreamy Chris O’Donnell as Dick Grayson. He had an earring! He was athletic enough to toss his burly brother and dad into the air! He could pull off a yellow-collared costume! Drives a motorcycle? Check. Armpit fuzz peeking out? Check. Ass-hugging green tights? Check.
We swooned because Dick Grayson felt like renegade. He talked back to Bruce Wayne, and he acted before he thought, eventually getting himself in trouble with biker gangs while trying to impress girls. When Dick surprises Batman with duds–apparently created by Alfred?–the rubber muscled thighs were defined, the cape was colorful, and the codpiece ranneth over. Maybe the nipples weren’t a joke yet because they were hidden by the magenta chest plate, but never underestimate how much audiences flock to a white twink with arms.
A few years ago, I rewatched Schumacher’s film on a whim, and I was surprised that I didn’t thirst as much over O’Donnell’s Grayson as much as I admired Carrey’s loud, bonkers turn as Edward Nygma (or Mr. E. Nygma, as his riddle late in the film teases). Trust me, I will never abandon my devotion for Robin, but there is something gleeful and satisfying about how Carrey doesn’t hold back as a villain with a penchant for sparkly costumes and dying his hair harsh shades of orange. He prances, he twirls, he ogles over diamonds. Schumacher was opening gay–did he tell Carrey to camp it up?
Most of the Batman films of the ’90s introduced two baddies. One was established before the film began (The Penguin, Two-Face, Mr. Freeze) but the other transformed in the narrative of the story: Pfeiffer’s Catwoman, Carrey’s The Riddler, and Uma Thurman’s Poison Ivy were all nerdy types who were second-guessed, pushed around, and then reborn as someone who took control and caused chaos in the society that dismissed them.
While my heart will always belong to Pfeiffer’s iteration of Catwoman, I have grown to appreciate Carrey’s The Riddler as a gay icon more and more. Yes, he doesn’t bad things and is so hungry for power that he is willing to take over the consciousness of Gotham City residents. Who hasn’t! Because Carrey threw himself into every role he took on, The Riddler was a rubber-faced, puck-ish jester. Tommy Lee Jones, who notoriously disliked Carrey’s on-set antics could play the serious villain while Carrey bounced off the walls, thrusted his crotch into the air, and twirled his golden staff mid-cackle like a cartoon character come to life. He wears a tiara while counting money in a getaway car, and his bedazzled onedies leave nothing to the imagination. If you do not lust after Debi Mazar in purple fetish gear or Drew Barrymore in baby-doll ostrich feathers, and you say lines like, ‘Very few people are both the summer and the winter…but you pull it off nicely’ to appease Daddy Two-Face, you are definitely gay. By the time that The Riddler lands in Arkham Asylym, he’s still making costumes (with a few screws loose…) that are better than some of the design challenge looks on RuPaul’s Drag Race.
Looking beyond his thirst for power, Carrey’s performance showcases a person who thrives when he finds an identity that he feels comfortable in. Does he look the other way as people are murdered and kill his boss in order to not get caught stealing intellectual property for the company that he works for…yes…but Schumacher’s over-the-top neon playground gives us permission to love him as long as we don’t adore the same kinds of people in our everyday world.
As Batman Forever looks beyond its thirty years in cinematic and superhero cinematic history, we still drool over O’Donnell’s Robin. Seriously…the codpiece. But make some room for Mr. Edward Nygma, if you please. Embrace the flouncy villainry and flamboyant obnoxiousness. Even if they are bad guys, swishy guys needs more attention. Leave the do-gooder twunks behind. They will still be doing good and hitting the gym when you return.
Batman Forever is streaming now on Max.
